


Damp Eyes

by Birdbitch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdbitch/pseuds/Birdbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire wakes up in the dark and hears that there’s somebody else still in the cafe with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damp Eyes

It catches Grantaire off-guard seeing Enjolras crying, but, they are here, alone in the cafe because everybody else has gone home and the owner didn’t feel like kicking them out. Grantaire wakes up to the sound of stilted sobs, the kind that get caught in the chest because whoever’s crying is too proud or self-conscious to let themselves have a good, loud cry. So, Grantaire wakes up to this small noise and looks around with hazy eyes and the cloud of sleep still hanging around his head when he sees Enjolras and it hits him that that’s the source of the crying.

Now, Grantaire would never claim to be good at comforting anybody, but he sees Enjolras crying and they’re alone and he figures, if I don’t, who will? and stands up on slightly shaky legs before catching his ground, and he slowly strides over to Enjolras, who hears him and stops the noise as best he can before he turns around and looks at Grantaire. The problem is, he’s got the evidence all over his face—his nose is red, cheeks flamed and shiny, eyes even more rimmed with red than they are any other time. He looks like a mess but he sees that he is not alone and attempts to steel himself to the eyes of any other person.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he says, voice a little higher than any other time Grantaire has heard it, a little less firm and clear.

Grantaire shrugs, kneels close to Enjolras. “I’m usually around somewhere. I just woke up.” They’re quiet for a little bit, and Grantaire sighs. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“I haven’t cried in front of anybody since I was a child,” Enjolras says finally, and he swallows and stares into the darkness of the rest of the cafe.

“I can leave, if you’d prefer.”

“No. No, I don’t think I want to be alone. I don’t think I like crying alone very much at all, in fact.” He looks sad, but his eyes don’t have the trace of tears at their edges anymore, and he’s settling back into a comfortable position. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t care—”

“I care about everything you say.” Grantaire moves to put his hand over Enjolras’s and Enjolras lets him, looks at him in surprise. He groans, leans back and bangs his head against the wall. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Enjolras’s face changes and he stares down at his feet, face flushing. “I just—I assumed, since you actively do not care about anything—”

“I’ll always care about you.”

Enjolras thinks about this, considers the way he’s spoken to Grantaire, and he can’t look up. “You must think me awful, then, when I speak to you,” he says softly, and he can feel Grantaire shrug next to him.

“No, not particularly. You don’t mean the words, not like anyone else might.” He laughs a little, but it hurts his chest and Enjolras looks at him with concern. “You think so much of people. Sometimes too much, I think.”

They sit in silence like this for some time, unsure of what to say to each other. Grantaire finally squeezes Enjolras’s hand, starts to let go and stand up. “I think I’ve said enough,” he says, but Enjolras shakes his head, holds onto Grantaire’s hand tighter and stands back up with him.

“Thank you,” he says, and he looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but isn’t sure how to put it. “I like it, when you speak,” he manages. “Would you believe me if I said I admire you?”

Grantaire laughs, shakes his head. “I would try my hardest to believe everything that comes out of your mouth,” he answers, and in spite of himself, he feels his face turn red.

“Thank you.” Enjolras squeezes Grantaire’s hand one more time and lets go of it. “Try to get home tonight.” He leaves, the building and Grantaire, alone with his thoughts, thinks that maybe he might be the one who ends up crying after all.


End file.
